VIII.

He reached into his pocket and pulled something out. It was an apple – shiny and red. He never really knew what he was going to pull out of his pocket. He bit into the apple absentmindedly – grainy texture but still juicy. He walked down the street and looked at an advertisement posted on the wall:

Lord Lertrell and his INTERDIMENSIONAL POCKET trying to find the Meaning of Life! Twice daily until the meaning has been found on the Shornheight Green. It showed his sharp face and thin moustache. His eyes were drawn with spirals, and he was reaching into a black hat with sparks surrounding his hands. He turned and walked on toward the green. He wasn’t really a lord, and his interdimensional pocket wasn’t in a hat – it was in his coat – and he wasn’t sure he could find the meaning of life. In fact, he was pretty sure he couldn’t; he hadn’t ever pulled anything meaningful out of his pocket. Still, it was a quick way to earn some coppers, and he might as well make something from the stupid meaning of life craze. He spit out the bitter seeds of the apple and realized he was holding the core. He tossed it over his shoulder just as he reached the green. The big, orange and yellow striped tent stood at the base of the flag pole; the symbol of Filtwater fluttered overhead. Lertrell strode to the back of the tent where his assistant was waiting. “Where have you been?” Her shrill voice ran up and down his spine. He looked meek next to the well-muscled blonde yelling at him. “You’re five minutes late; you know how crowds get!” “Another full house?” he squeaked. “Don’t be a fool. Of course, it’s another full house. All of Filtwater has gone mad searching fro the meaning. They don’t want to miss a single opportunity.” Her blue eyes sparkled with greed and anger. She was beautiful when greedy. “What are you standing around for? Go do your job!” She hit him in the shoulder hard, then shoved him through the flap of the tent.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, the great Lord Lertrell.” The crowd murmured with impatience. The tall, lanky man appeared on stage. He wore a black cylinder on his head, a black coat and black trousers covered his long, sticklike legs. His eyes were black, topped with thin, black eyebrows which were thicker than his moustache. His nose was so pointy it looked like it was leading the rest of his pale, gaunt face, which did not want to follow. “Thank you, thank you.” There really wasn’t anyone to thank. No one had applauded. “I will now try to find the meaning of life.” His voice was a forced base. “But first, I need a volunteer.” His eyes raced across the front row. “Yes, you madam, please come up here.” Those in the front row had paid more and deserved a little treat. The woman he chose had kind of a bounce to her step. Drab brown hair framed a round face in which the cheeks and mouth puffed out. Her teeth were bucked, her ears large and long. Lertrell could guess what she was going to grab. “Good day, madam, what is your name?” “Bee Slatter.” Her voice was quiet and reedy. “Well, Madame Slatter, reach into this pocket and pull out the first thing you touch.” He opened his coat, so she could reach into the pocket. She stuck her hand in and then her arm. Finally, she began to pull her shoulder out of his pocket. “The meaning of life is…” She pulled out a carrot. “Uh-huh.” His voice was calm and self-satisfied. “The meaning of life is a carrot. I think I had better try the next one. Go sit down now, madam, if you please.” Contempt was heavy in his voice as she made a motion to give him the carrot. “No, no, you keep it as a gift. You did, after all, pull it out of the pocket.” She went back to her seat seemingly more bewildered than before. Lertrell reached into his pocket and said, “The meaning of life is…” Something floated into his hand; he pulled it out. “…Jewelry.” He held up a sparkling gold necklace studded with diamonds and rubies. His assistant practically ripped it out of his hand. With a frown, he reached a hand into his pocket. He plastered a smile to his face as he said, “The meaning of life is…” He pulled out what seemed to be a metal container painted blue with a very realistic depiction of…meat? He handed it to his assistant who whispered in his ear and handed him the can. “…Es Pam, a meat product.” He handed the meat product to a big, hairy man sitting next to Madame Slatter. “The meaning of life is…” Everyone gasped as Lord Lertrell pulled a spherical creature out of his pocket. It had one huge eye in the middle of its spherical body and many little eye stalks that flailed wildly about like fat hair in a windstorm. The mouth at the bottom quickly crunched into Lertrell’s skull. Chaos broke out. The crowd ran screaming through the tent flaps. The creature dined on Lertrell as the tent fell down around it. “MMMM…I haven’t eaten this well since I got trapped in that stupid pocket.” As the creature emerged from the tent, it burped.